


Westward Ho(es)

by icarusty (icanthinkofausername), Katsa_Calming



Category: A Heist With Markiplier (Web Series), Jacksepticeye Power Hour (Web Series), Markiplier TV (Web Series), Sanders Sides (Web Series), Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Lore - Freeform, Other, SO SORRY FOR THE AMOUNT OF CHARACTERS, Wild West AU, crackfic, what have we done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29864241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icanthinkofausername/pseuds/icarusty, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katsa_Calming/pseuds/Katsa_Calming
Summary: Production isn't quite a normal town. Sure, there's the normal tumbleweeds and the occasional dust-covered porch, but people often wonder if there's something more. Something hidden behind the thumping of old boots and dirt-covered flannel. Sometimes you can hear the whispers of secrets kept too well behind the sound of old rusty hinges.Something here needs fixing. Something here is wrong.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

Different kinds of dark hold different kinds of things.

There is the dark of shadows stretched by long summer days, the dark of riding off into the sunset, knowing the artist’s orange clouds would eventually fade into lavender-scented twilight, lit by stars and the solitary moon. That is the dark like honey, slow and sweet and long-savored, holding fireflies and thistle.

There is the dark of waiting, huddled and alone, the only constant companion the thump of a heartbeat. That is the dark of nightmares and ghosts, of things that shouldn’t move but do, of spindly branches shadowed on a dusty windowsill, of imagined faces and terrified cold sweat. That dark shelters the things that hide. The things that wait.

There is the dark like a blanket, warm and soft. That one is sewn of whispered goodnights and tightly held hands, of promises and foolish dreams, of the giddy excitement of knowing this is just the beginning, and the sweet sorrow of knowing that it will end. 

There is the dark of hidden things, of vaults and safes and tightly locked doors. Madness and the blind hide here, run like children through the shadowed hallways, listening to the echoing laughter and quiet sobs. This is where secrets are held, secrets like golden treasure or scarlet hidden sins. People are afraid of this dark for fear they may get lost inside its labyrinth walls forever, scratching on the padded walls with hopeless hands.

This dark is not those. This dark is of sharp glass, splintered ice fractured into pieces, only held together by fragile pressure and teetering balance. This dark is an endless twisted abyss, it holds anger and betrayal and unending, wrenching grief. Grief for a friend, grief for a family, and grief for themselves. It is intertwined with ruby wine and a sapphire ribbon, stitched together with forced smiles and a mystery still unsolved. 

This dark holds something red and something blue, and they are as much a part of the cage as they are trapped inside it. 

This dark looked out at the sleeping town from a high perch atop a windswept dune, watching the last candles of the tavern flicker out.

This Dark had work to do. 


	2. Jim News Edition 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you have questions/complaints about lore: ask Katsa  
> If you have questions/complaints about writing or grammar: ask Ican  
> If you have comments/praise.................. we love you <3


End file.
